The Cell
by vee72
Summary: A girl awakens, only to find this is just the start of her nightmare.


Her hand's were centimeters from her face, and yet were still invisible in the darkness. Shivering, she crawled along the floor, trying to ignore the cuts down her legs and ankles. The floor was cold under her hands and her teeth were chattering loudly. If only she could feel something: a match, a wand, a door, anything that could help her out of this blackness that was threatening to engulf her.

A wall... She could feel her mouth twist into a kind of frightened smile. She was in a room, a dark room, but a room none-the-less. Now all she needed was a light switch. Trembling from the cold, she attempted to pull herself up, but her legs gave way, the agonizing pain from her ankles was jolting up to her thighs.

Sniffling, she remembered how this happened. _How long ago?_ She wasn't sure. Had they cast a sleeping spell over her, or had she just passed out from the pain? She had no idea.

In her room reading, yes, that's what she had been doing, home alone, her parents were out for the night, there had been a loud crash, and she went to investigate. The noise was deafening: broken glass, chairs upended, spell after spell was being carried out, they were looking for something, something they couldn't find, angry voices, yelling. The bookcase had fallen, and she had screamed. Masked strangers brutally seized and cut her. The sounds of spells being cast had reached her ears even in that madness.

And now she was alone, here, in a cold room, with a silence so overwhelming she thought she'd go insane.

"Hello" her shaky voice echoed throughout the room, startling her. She was certain she was alone...

She wasn't sure how many minutes crept by as she sat on the cold floor; maybe it was hours, days? In this darkness, she wasn't even sure if time still existed, wasn't sure if she had been awake the whole time, or if she had passed out, the darkness merging with her own dark thoughts.

Trying to get somewhat comfortable on the cold stone floor was agony. Screaming didn't help, but it was the only thing she had control over. The pain in her ankles was beyond anything she had felt before, they were broken, she knew, but that knowledge didn't stifle the pain.

_Click!_ The sound of a lock being opened reverberated throughout the stillness... Was it a dream? Was someone there?

She attempted to ask who was there, but all that came out was a harsh cry.

Footsteps made their way closer, she felt as if the sound was on top of her**,** and then she heard a man's voice, a spell was cast, and light was suddenly all around her, blinding her.

"Hello, Hermione," sneered Lucius Malfoy, his evil smile piercing her.

Pressing herself flat against the wall, she sought to find an exit before Lucius could put whatever plans his twisted mind had concocted into action. The tiny concrete room had only one small doorway, which Lucius was blocking. She did however notice bloodstains on the ground, and looking at her mutilated feet, she realized it was her own blood.

"You won't be escaping, Miss Granger. You won't be leaving." Lucius laughed coldly as he watched her eyes darting around the room.

Pointing his wand, Lucius whispered, "Incarcerous."

Ropes shot out of the black wand like snakes, twisting, and turning until they bound her hands and feet together.

Lucius' mouth twisted into a smile again, repeating over and over, "You're going to enjoy this, oh yes, you're going to enjoy this aren't you?"

Hermione wasn't sure if he was talking to her or himself.

Lucius leisurely stripped off his clothes, and approached her. With a smirk he flicked his wand, a silent incantation, and Hermione's clothes were in tatters around her. Another flick, and her legs were spread eagle.

Hermione sobbed quietly as Lucius roughly thrust into her over and over, her shattered ankles continuously banging on the harsh concrete; praying for him to finish, foolishly thinking no pain could be worse than this...

And then Lucius invoked Crucio.

For hours the concrete room echoed with a mixture of screams from a girl in the worst pain imaginable, and from a man lost in pleasure.

Lucius emerged from the cell looking content. Smiling he shut the door behind him. Torturing someone to death was always his specialty.


End file.
